Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) (38 page)

“While I appreciate your offer, I must decline any further agreements with you.  You may take the last shipment of azurite we have prepared, but that will be all.  It is my duty to reestablish Samaria’s economy and the confidence in my people.  I cannot do that when I’m focusing on nothing other than mining azurite for an unknown buyer.  I don’t need you or your Master’s charity.  But regardless of all that, Samaria is preparing for war.  Diverting from that course of action could result in being overtaken by the Nomans, which is not something I’m willing to do.”

Evangeline looked at up him again.  Her softened features and uncertain blue eyes unveiled to Heath the vulnerability hidden beneath the confident Queen’s exterior.  The pressure of her current situation, plus her internal turmoil was getting to her, and soon she would break.  Heath wasn’t sure what it would be that would break her, but when it happened, he’d be there to take advantage of it.  Overall, the emissary admired the Queen’s tenacity, and in the grand scope of things, she’d bode well. 

Suddenly, Heath reached out and grabbed Evangeline gently by the elbows.  She tightened her jaw and flinched slightly, reminding Heath that she still thought of him as a
Slythos
.

“Look,” Heath said seriously, “I’m going to repeat what I told you several weeks ago. Olger crushes you in shear numbers.  I know you plan on detonating the mines, but Olger has enough troops that his losses resulting from the blows won’t even phase them.” 

“How do you know all of this?” she asked, but Heath just shook his head.

“That’s neither here nor there,” he said.  “Now let me extend another offer to you. Continue to mine the azurite as you have been doing, and I will help you win this war.  Then you can return to ruling Samaria as you see fit.” 

He stared at the Queen, trying to read the expression on her serious face, but to the emissary’s chagrin, Evangeline just burst out laughing.

“You honestly think that I breeched the terms of contract with one tyrant just to enter into another with an even
worse
adversary?  A
Slythos
!”  She laughed till tears rimmed her blue eyes.  “It’s punishable across the Realm to even mention the idea of witchcraft,” she continued, “and you’re asking me to willing employ your demonic sorcery to help me defend Samaria against a Noman invasion.  No thank you!  I’d rather be the enslaved to Olger himself than collude with a being like you.”

“What exactly do you think we are?” Heath exploded, catching Evangeline off guard so that her clear melodic laugh abruptly ceased.  “Does your asinine kind still believe that we’re nothing more than gifted thugs who wander the night, seeking to destroy the innocent?” 

Heath tightened his hold on her elbows and pulled her into him, shaking her violently with each word.  “What do you even know about the Genesis anyway?  About why our lands were divided?  Because I guarantee it’s the same convoluted, disproportionate story I’ve heard from every single Commoner I’ve ever met!”  Heath was yelling in her face now, and his anger was rapidly escalating.

“Release your hold on me!” Evangeline demanded, and Heath shoved her away from him.

“I’m not a monster,” he growled.  “But I can be one if I want.  Just as much as you can.”  He walked two steps forward and lifted his arms as if to grab her, but she parried out of his way.

   Evangeline watched as the average sized man appeared to double in breadth, and her initial distrust of him quickly transformed into terrorizing fear.  The veins lacing his arms and neck began to throb harder and faster, as if his pumping heart was being forced to push more and more energy through his angered body.  His hands were palm up in the air, and he glared at her with fury filled eyes.  The Queen staggered several paces and quickly took refuge behind her wingback chair near the balcony.

“I’m offering my services to you, Queen Evangeline.  I can do things beyond what your mind could even imagine.  It would be wise if you accepted.” 

While he spoke, the blazing fire kindling in the hearth next to him extinguished completely, as if a great zephyr of wind had rushed through the chamber and sucked out all of the oxygen.  The room went still and dark, and Evangeline lifted her head cautiously above the chair’s back to see what Heath was doing. 

To her utter horror, the man was now balancing a ball of fire between his hands, undoubtedly the fire stolen from the hearth itself.  The blue luminescence of the heat lite up Heath’s face until nothing but the shadows underneath his eyes and lips could be seen. 

“Watch closely,” he commanded her.  Heath balanced the sphere of blue fire in one hand as its density began to change, expand, and regroup until it was no longer a blazing orb, but a warrior’s mace with a spiked ball attacked to a long chain.  Its texture was translucent, like a web, and it was lit up from an unseen source.  He cried out and swung it into the ground, digging the spikes into the floor causing a massive shift of stone.  He drew back the mace, allowing the ball to swing next to him until it began to change again, but this time into a javelin.  He launched it as hard as he could, and the spear sliced through the air and disappeared into nothingness.

“You’ll need weapons, My Queen,” Heath sneered.  “But trust me, I’m all the weapon you’ll need.”

The blue fire had reappeared hovering like a spirit between them.  To Evangeline’s shock, Heath grasped it hard then drew it back like one who is preparing to throw a ball, and hurled it at Evangeline.  Or so she thought.  The Queen screamed as the white-hot globe passed over her head leaving a trail of blinding light in its wake.  It crashed into the linen curtains leading to the balcony and burst into flame.  Evangeline gasped and ducked back to the ground, assuming that the fire would quickly spread and devour all the fine things in her chamber.  She crawled away from the growing blazes that now howled and crackled in her ears.  The heat tingled along her skin, drawing her in as it expanded, but she turned away from it.

“Are you mad?  Make it stop!” Evangeline yelled over the roar of the fire.  Smoke was quickly gathering at the pinnacle of her ceiling, hovering over her like a black cloud.  Evangeline closed her eyes, expecting the fire to consumer her at any moment, but when her death did not come, she opened one eye and saw Heath studying her intently.  As if her torment was complete, Evangeline saw the emissary reach out his hands to call the raging fire back to him, and every that had happened reversed itself until Heath held the sphere of blue flame between his hands.  He turned towards the hearth and threw it in where the charred timbers immediately caught fire once more.

              Evangeline sat motionless next to the chair exhaling short, shaky breaths.  She turned over on her backside and put her trembling palms on the floor so she could see the man who’d just hurled fire at her.  Heath marched over to her, his face now calm and completely allayed of any previous insensateness.  The heels of his boots thudded on the ground, and all Evangeline could do was watch as the mound of sinuous blades covering his shoes became larger in her line of sight till she was staring right at them.  Then Heath extended his gloved hand in front of her, blades down and palm up, inviting her to stand.

              The young Queen’s nails clawed the stone floor on which she sat as rage coursed through her.  Her head was pounding so hard all she could see of the man before her were distorted lines and shapes.  Evangeline screamed in anger and flung herself into Heath’s shins with all her weight.  The man cursed loudly then fell sideways to the ground. 

Once he was down, Evangeline stumbled up and ran passed him.  She fled over to the mantel and snatched up the Winnser sword she’d so carefully handled earlier.  In the corner of her eye, Evangeline saw Heath flip back onto his feet like a nimble cat and turn back towards her.  Even with sweaty, fumbling hands, the Queen was able to firmly grasp her weapon and hold it between her and her opponent.  She gritted her teeth and growled deeply in her throat then charged the point of the sword at the tender part of Heath’s midsection as fast as she could.

              Her sword made contact with him exactly where Evangeline had targeted the fatal stab.  But instead of slicing through the foreign jerkin, the momentum of the blade ceased when it made contact, like it had hit an imaginary wall.  The blade quivered and bowed like a bendable sheet of aluminum till it snapped in half, directly down the fuller all the way to the grip. 

Evangeline cried out in surprise as she let the sword drop to the ground with a lurid metallic clatter, fearing that whatever sorcery Heath had just unleashed on her weapon would break her in half as well.  For a moment she just stood there, staring at the broken sword at her feet, which was, in so many ways, representative of her many broken dreams for Samaria.  Heath stood frozen across from her, watching her assess the unintentional damage done to her beloved heirloom.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Heath finally spoke up.  “I just wanted to show you what I could do for you, for Samaria; to defeat Olger Guttensen.  I can help you, if you stop treating me like I’m an evil monster, because I’m not.  Everything you’ve heard your whole life about us are lies.  All lies.”

“I don’t need your help!”  Evangeline tried to yell, but her voice was interlaced with so much sadness that it came out like a gurgle.  She bent down and picked up the fragmented sword, gathering it in her arms and holding it against her chest like a baby.  Heath pressed his lips together as he tried to decide what to do with the conflicted Queen.  He knew he had to be direct with her.

“I’ll give you one sunrise and sunset, Evangeline, to finalize your decision concerning what I’ve offered you.  I strongly suggest thinking long and hard about utilizing my services.  If you change your mind, signal me by draping a Samarian banner over the rail of your balcony.  If I see it, I will return.  If not, I will retrieve the last shipment of azurite due to my Master and be out of your life forever.” 

Heath let his last words linger in the air as if to finalize the direness of his proposal.  Evangeline averted his gave, keeping her eyes transfixed on the broken Samarian heirloom she’d so rashly wielded.  Without another word, Heath nodded his head towards the Queen in acknowledgement then slipped quietly out of the chambers.

Chapter 23

            
 
Brutus Bludworth shifted uncomfortably in his stiff horse saddle as the stallion slowly padded along Hawke’s Nest Trail, which tightly wound its way around the mountains.  He was heading a group of eight Samarian Guards single file through the dense forest, which backed up to the outpost along Sugarpine Pass.  They were descending into a large glen overshadowed by slender pine trees that were constantly scattering their soft needles every time a gust of wind rustled their branches.  The scent of pine was sweet and sharp and permeated the indention in the land below them.  The gradient of the mountain was steep and unforgiving, forcing Brutus to clench his legs against his horse and lean back in his seat in order to avoid feeling as if he was about to somersault over the rocky ridges.

              Brutus had been traveling on horseback for hours on end, and by now his inner thighs were chaffed from rubbing the saddle and his lower back was sore from the unforgiving bumps along the road.  All he could do was continue on until the land flattened out and the guard towers could be seen on the other side of the glen.  In the massive scope of the green valley, the man-made outposts appeared minuscule and insignificant in the presence of nature’s grandeur.  Sugarpine Pass was close to the Argent River, and the waterway’s flowing current looked like a silver thread bending through the canyon.

              The General had removed his eight remaining men from the Hazy Creek southern outpost facing the road into Rienne in order to beef up the numbers at the outpost closest to Nomanestan.  Because Rienne was a peaceful nation and one in which Samaria did regular trading, Brutus felt comfortable in removing this troops from that station.

As Brutus rode along, Captain Gerod Kingsley was also moving his company of men from their northern outpost near the tundra all the way down to Sugarpine Pass.  They might not be the closest company of Guards to respond, but the land was less strenuous to travel on compared to other areas of the forest, which meant Captain Kingsley would get his men there quicker than anyone else stationed in the Samarian mountains.

By now, all ranks of the Samarian Guard had knowledge that they were under threat of Noman invasion.  Following Brutus’s lead, the officers underneath his chain of command had urgently convened that afternoon to formulate a plan of defense against the Nomans.  Talan Leatherby also appeared at the Guards’ assembly ready to explain the role his team would play in the upcoming battle, as well as the new improvements to the fire powder and what it was actually capable of.  He provided detailed blueprints of the mines to each officer, along with an explanation of what Queen Evangeline expected her Guard to do with them.  With Brutus’s cooperation, Talan then had ten of his senior miners assigned to ten field officers in which they would directly partner when it came to setting off the detonations. 

After the assembly had adjourned, Brutus instructed his officers to begin reorganizing and relocating their companies to specific bases near the abandoned mines in which the detonations would take place.  Talan had ensured that these mines were near the larger, more accessible throughways in which Olger might move his men.  Brutus then had other, smaller squadrons reassigned to locations higher up in the mountains that were used only during times of siege. 

Tomorrow morning, once Gerod Kingsley had arrived at Sugarpine Pass, Brutus would head back to Alumhy, making stops at the several encampments along the way, ensuring that his men were equipped with enough weapons, provisions, and supplies to ensure success in the upcoming battle.

Overseeing the Sugarpine outpost was Captain Lee Atwater.  Because Lee was smart, resilient, and mouthy, Brutus had assigned him to that outpost several years ago.  Now, he was en route to meet up with him.

              There were two large guard towers built on both the east and west sides of Sugarpine Pass.  They were constructed out of the same blue mountain stone as Mizra, cylindrical like a silo, and rose about sixty feet high.  The towers were topped off with a wooden triangular roof, held up by four large posts. Hanging underneath the roof was a large copper bell, which served as an alarm for the men in the instance they were ever attacked.  A battlement with merlons provided an open outlook spot for the men stationed at the towers.  Arrow slits were built into all floors of the tower, and a large iron gate barred the structure’s ingress.

              With the addition of the eight men accompanying Brutus, Sugarpine Pass was only protected by a miniscule twenty Samarian Guards, plus Captain Atwater and Brutus himself.  This made the General extremely nervous because this guarded location was the closest post to Nomanestan and provided the easiest access into Samaria.  Brutus silently hoped that Captain Kingsley would make good time and arrive sooner than planed.  As Brutus and his squad paraded along the knee-high grasses of the glen, he scanned the towers for any sign of occupation, but they were as still and silent as the encircling summits themselves.

              “Where
is
everyone?” asked one of the sergeants as he rode up next to Brutus and looked at the two guard towers nervously.  “This stillness is almost eerie.”  The soldier’s horse, coved head to tail in chainmail, snorted loudly and tossed its head as if it was also unnerved by the tranquility of their surroundings.  Brutus followed the sergeant’s wandering gaze as he reached up and adjusted his coif that was slipping too far down his forehead.  He’d lost weight during his imprisonment, and his armor now sagged across his wide shoulders and thick arms.

              “They’re around,” Brutus responded soundly once his coif was back in the correct position.  He looked behind him and nodded his men to move forward towards the looming towers that cast elongated tubular shadows across the glen floor.  As Brutus and his men advanced, the general moistened his lips and brought them close together, whistling a serious of clear tones that pierced the tranquility of the glen.  When he was done, he looked up at the tower’s parapet only to see three sets of slender black arrows pointed in their direction.  Brutus abruptly halted his horse and unsheathed his sword from its scabbard, all the while studying the threat above him.

              “Ahoy, men!” Brutus called out angrily.  “This is General Bludworth.  I order you to lower your weapons immediately and fetch Captain Atwater.  And all of you make yourselves visible!”  His deep voice ricocheted through the glen like a pebble on water before the tripartite of sharp arrows lowered behind the battlement wall.  A short but stout man with prematurely white hair tied behind his neck came out from behind a merlon and look down at the squad of newcomers below.

              He cupped his hands around his mouth and responded with, “General Bludworth? Is that you?  I was expecting you hours ago.  And now it’s nearly end of day.”  Lee’s insulting tone of voice reminded Brutus why he disliked the other man so much, despite how talented an officer he was.

              “I got delayed, Captain Atwater,” Brutus replied, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.  “There is much strategic planning to do regarding this battle with the Nomans.”

              “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that, General, considering you jettisoned me to this forsaken outlier of a post.  And where are the reinforcements that were promised to me?”  He made an objectively insulting gesture towards the eight enlisted men.  “This can’t possibly be all of them.” 

Brutus tightened the grip on his sword till his fingers cramped.  If Lee ran his mouth one more time, he’d ascend the tower himself and slice him clean in half before the Nomans had a chance to.  Without waiting for Brutus to respond to his question, Lee turned around and yelled something inaudible to one of the soldiers behind him.  “Come around to the side, General, and take shelter.  Night will fall quickly.” 

Brutus sheathed his sword, although still annoyed, and redirected his horse and his small group of soldiers around to the side of the tower where the crossbar gate was already lifted and ready for them to enter the outpost.  A soldier Brutus didn’t recognize saluted him as they entered. 

The structure was more open on the inside than it appeared on the outside, and the lowest floor had been transformed into a temporary stable for the Samarian warhorses that munched lazily on hay.  Two sets of stairs spiraled up the tower walls, and large planks of wood were laid on top of cross beams between the stairs providing space for the stationed Guards to sleep within the protection of the tower.  Other than the sparse blocks of daylight coming from the arrow slits and the grated door, the inside of the tower was as dark as coal.

“Men, remain here momentarily,” Brutus instructed his squad.  “Tend to the horses and unpack our provisions.  I’ll find out from Captain Atwater if he can make room for us indoors or suggest we make camp out in the glen.”  He looked up and around the tower, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the lack of daylight available.  The air was musty; as if no new oxygen had flowed through the structure since the day it was constructed.

“I suggest you take advantage of the tower’s protection,” a voice spoke from above.  “And avoid the vulnerability of the outdoors, considering the situation we’re in.”

Captain Lee Atwater was seen descending the tower stairs with a lantern held out in front of him to light his path. He was a short man, with a serious face accompanied by thin lips and a bulbous nose.  His arms and torso were protected by a chainmail coat overlaid with a brown and green battle tunic.  On the front of the battle attire, the Samarian crest was stitched into the camouflaged fabric with the finest of golden thread.  He gave Brutus a weak salute when he reached the bottom of the stairs, and Brutus mimicked it back.

“You can leave the horses down here to be tended to,” Lee continued.  “And there are enough provisions available for everyone.  Although the meat is about to go rancid, it should be good for one more night.”  He then pointed up to the platforms that ran down the middle of the tower.  “Those are the sleeping quarters,” he explained.  “The are actually quite sturdy and spacious when you get up there, although I
would
suggest sleeping in the middle.  There is nothing to keep you from falling off the edge if you roll the wrong way during the night.”

“Currently I have five men here and five men manning the sister tower across the way.”  He pointed east as if the other tower could be seen through the thick stone.  “Most of my men spend their days either scouting, hunting, or providing lookout on the battlement.  I’ll let you all rest for tonight, but tomorrow morning, expect to be awakened at dawn and ready to receive your new assignments.”  Lee crossed his arms over his chest and squared his stance to make himself look larger and more menacing.

  “A word of caution, I forbid my men from leaving this tower during the hours of sundown to sunup.  I expect the same compliance from all of you.”  Lee looked over at Brutus with a staid gaze and soldier-like countenance.

“General Bludworth, I invite you to have a smoke with me atop the battlement while the men get settled.  There is much we need to discuss, and the air is much more refreshing outside.” 

Brutus nodded, knowing there was a lot he had to confer with the Captain about, but he was not looking forward to it.  Lee had already turned around and began the trek back up with stairs with the lantern held out in front of him.  Brutus followed, feeling the extra weight of his chainmail and plate armor with each step he took.  By the time they reached the top, he was panting heavily while Lee didn’t seem the least bit bothered.  The steps ran almost all the way up to the battlement’s hatch where Lee stopped and had to reach his arms through the opening and hoist himself up.  Brutus quickly followed.

As soon as he was outside, a wave of zesty mountain air collided with him, and he gladly filled his lungs with it.  Five men, including the three archers who’d threatened him earlier, rose and saluted him with their fists to their hearts then stood at attention.

“Be at ease men,” Brutus commanded saluting them back.  “Continue with your duties, please.”

“Corporal Richards, you’re on look out duty,” Lee instructed with a snap of his fingers.  “Remember, full scan every quarter hour.”

“Aye, Captain,” the corporal responded proudly.  He picked up his leather quiver filled with arrows and threw it across his back.  From atop the tower, Brutus could see an entire three-sixty view of the glen.  Lee was right about night falling quickly because already the sky was a deep indigo color and wisps of grey stratus clouds phased out any remaining sunlight.  The clusters of ancient pine forest that caressed the rugged summits now appeared as one gigantic shadow coalescing in the fading daylight.

Lee had taken a seat on a bench-like structure built into the battlement wall, removed his pipe and lit the leaf inside it.  Brutus joined him, grateful to rest his sore back and legs, and was quickly offered a cup of freshly brewed coffee by one of the corporals.  Lee puffed pleasurably on his long stem pipe for an exaggerated amount of time before finally speaking to Brutus.

“You know,” he began, “over the years manning this watch tower, I’ve seen thousands and thousands of peddlers traveling this road in and out of Samaria.  At first, it was kind of an exhilarating experience.  So many people with different languages, cultures, and stories all stopped to camp inside the safeness of the glen before finally reaching Alumhy.  It was like being able to travel the world without actually leaving home.” 

Lee’s face softened a bit, and a subconscious smile lite up his face as he reminisced on good memories.  Then he continued, “But after a while, the people stopped coming, and the many different faces and names that were originally so clear to me all become one big blurry mess in my memory.  But!” he paused and held up an index finger towards Brutus as if to emphasize his point.  “I remember
exactly
the day the Nomans first brought their shipments into Samaria.”